Of Marshmallows and Pancakes
by kurosakiLenalee
Summary: The Once-ler's terrible past presented in weekly installments. After running from the orphanage, Once-ler is adopted by his distant relatives. Once-ler/ Norma possible in the future.
1. Isn't Knitting a Sport?

**A/N This is a collaboration piece done by Sue Doenym and myself. Our first The Lorax fanfiction. We love the Once-ler!  
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**Disclaimer: We do not own The Lorax or any of it's characters.  
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**Breaking News!**

Recent reports state that earlier this evening a three year old was found in the burnt down ruins of his former family home. The blaze is said to have been started by an oven fire. Two victims have been pulled from wreckage and are in critical condition.

This just in: the victims have died! Their last words were "The pancake." No ideas yet as to what that means. What a tragic ending for the young couple. What will the fate of this little boy, their only son, be…

**Six Years Later: Horklump's Home for the Wretchedly Rejected**

"Get out 'ere at once you 'opeless beanpole!"

I opened my eyes, reluctantly and groped for my shoes. This was my seventy ninth adoption interview in my eight years of residency here. These had been the worst years I ever could have imagined. Scrubbing the floor endlessly so it was always shiny for the interviewing party was just one of our awful tasks. Everything was dusted three times a day, and our clothes washed by hand because it was a good "character builder." Unfortunately it not only wore down the skin on my hands but the clothes on my back as well. I had to darn them frequently but soon there was nothing left to darn and I began to knit my own clothes from scraps of yarn I scavenged from the miscellaneous nooks and crannies I was forced to clean.

I walked out into the spotless corridor, rubbing the sleep from my eyes and slouched through the door frame to see what Madame Horklump wanted. I straightened immediately, seeing that she was with a startled looking couple. I got that look a lot. My arms and legs were so long that they seemed to belong to someone other than a thin boy of nine years old. I always had to wear shorts because there was never enough material to make long pants.

"'Ow nice of you to join us èchalas," she said, her bristly black uni-brow furrowed in frustration at my tardiness and sloppy apparel. "This is Monsieur et Madame Hopkins. Why don't you show them to the lounge?"

"This way," I sighed gesturing to them that they should follow. _I really should try to be more enthusiastic_, I thought. I t was just hard to be an optimist after so many failed attempts at adoption. I led them along the hallway past several dormitories, the kitchen, and the lavatory before opening the very last door. The ancient hinges creaked ominously as it opened and the automatic lights flickered on revealing a yellow carpeted room with blue walls and out of date furniture. I held the door for them, standing straight , gesturing to the furniture, indicating that they should take a seat any where they like.

After they had settled into a sofa I perched on the edge of an armchair, not expecting this to last very long. "Hello," I began, delivering my usual introductory spiel. "As you may already know, my name is Once-ler, I am nine years old, my favorite color is green, and my favorite food is pancakes."

"Well, nice to meet you… Once-ler? Is there a special meaning for your name?" Mrs. Hopkins timidly inquired. She seemed to be trying to strike up conversation with me while not offending me at the same time. Surprisingly I had not had that question asked often, with kind intentions anyway. Mrs. Hopkins was a genuinely nice person. That was my first impression, and they were usually right with adults. At the first glimpse of Madam Horklump I knew any chance of happiness in her presence would be utterly nonexistent. Mr. Hopkins was sitting slightly uncomfortably seeming to have good character when juxtaposed to the bristly toadstool (my secret name for Madam Horklump). S_top analyzing for a second here and converse_, I reprimanded myself, my future was hanging in the balance_._

"Um, I don't know. I never had it explained to me as a kid that I can remember and I have never met anyone else with the same name to ask."

"Do you play any sports?"

Typical dad question. No surprise there. "Not really, unless you count knitting as a sport!"

"Um…" At that last comment they seemed to finally really notice my clothes including my knitted socks and shorts. My shirt was only half knitted since there was still some fabric left. I didn't wear these out of choice, especially the segments that had pink or purple yarn but I had to make do with what I could scrounge. If I could choose, eventually I would want to dress like those important people that came in suits to inspect the orphanage every year. They looked like they had everything they wanted, including the power to change things.

"That is a strange interest for a young boy." Mr. Hopkins started. "What do you want to be when you grow up?"

"A successful inventor who changes the world. I want to create something that will help everyone. Something everybody needs."

"That's nice. Does it involve knitting?"

"Of course!" I was getting nervous and excited at the same time. They were asking about my dream but I didn't think they understood my vision. What was so bad about knitting anyways? There's nothing un-manly about knitting!

"Um… Is there anything else you like to do?"

"Not really, what else is there, I mean the only thing we do around here is clean and when we're done with that we clean some more."

Mrs. Hopkin's eyes widened and Mr. Hopkin's eyebrow's shot up so high I thought that they were going to crash right through the roof. ''So you don't ever play sports or anything?"

"I've heard of basketball and seen a little hacky sack but we never actually play anything here."

They were staring at me, disbelief sprawled on their faces. Evidently this was a crime or something. Was it actually against the law to not play a sport? They were getting up. It was over already? I guessed so, so I opened the door for them and escorted them to the main office where the bristly toadstool was waiting. She greeted them with a smile and shut the door in my face, glaring at me through the window. I took the hint and headed down the hall to the dormitory.

I didn't think that had ended too well. It was hard to tell. Sometimes I would feel like it had gone smashingly but then they would decide not to adopt me and hurry from the building after talking to Madame Horklump, gibbering rubbish about the safety of their precious flammable home. It was as if I was cursed.

I opened the cheery yellow door and stepped into the run down gray dormitory. I was empty by this time; everyone was out doing their chores. I walked over to my bunk and sat down on the spring mattress, picking at the fluff sticking through the threadbare fabric. I wasn't in the mood to do any chores at the moment, not that I ever was but today I was feeling especially glum. I decided this was the best time to sneak out and get some fresh air since the bristly toadstool was occupied. Today I did not care about the punishment as all I wanted to do was to get out of there right then.

I would have grabbed my coat to shield myself from the snow outside but that was sort of impossible seeing as no such thing existed in the orphanage unless it belonged to Madame Horklump. So I headed out without any protection whatsoever to trudge my weary way to my destination: the ruins of my original home.


	2. A Strange Meeting

Chapter 2

The bitter wind cut at my face as I trudged my way through the winding, cobbled streets. At length I stood across from the blackened lot that had once been my family home. It stood out like a sore thumb against the white houses and their pristine lawns. In that aspect, it was just like me, completely out of place and in sorry shape. I wished I remembered more about it, but alas there was only a fleeting recollection of my parents and me making breakfast together. It wasn't much, but was happy unlike the rest of my life up to this point, and it didn't look like that would change anytime soon.

Looking both ways, I sprinted across the street and doubled over, panting from the exertion. The couple who had interviewed me earlier took one look at me and their faces paled. They hurried to the other side of the street and walked as fast as their legs could carry them.

_What was that about_, I wondered as I turned to face the house. Entering through the still standing entryway arch I swept every facet of the ruins with my gaze. A stair railing with beautifully intertwining metal vines was rusting on the ground and the shattered chandelier had showered the burned remains with twinkling trinkets that had scattered on impact. I walked across the charcoal beams and entered what would have once been considered the back yard. I sat on an old metal bench that groaned under my weight but held firm.

A mother hurried along pulling a child that was obviously late for school. She had curly brown hair and kept getting distracted by the houses remains. She gazed at me with unhidden curiosity as her mother whisked her away around a corner. I sighed and wondered what it would be like to be part of a family. I shivered and hugged myself, trying to block out the cold. I felt a breath at my neck. "What are you doing here all alone?" I jumped! I most definitely did not screaming like a girl, that would be ridiculous! Okay, maybe I did but I had a right to. What kind of person wouldn't scream when they heard an unexpected voice right behind them? Mid-spin my footing caught on something and I ended up looking up at the strange man from the ground. He looked nice enough but the situation was a little creepy. Chuckling he extended a hand to help me up out of the ashes.

"N-N-nothing!" I was squeaking! Why could I never sound more courageous?

"Well, I'm not sure I believe you. You know two people that lived here died from this fire. It's a sad story. You know it?"

"Um, kind of? I have heard about it, but not much. People don't really talk about it with me." He seemed really talkative. I didn't think I could have dissuaded him from telling me the story even if I wanted to. But I really was interested in hearing the whole story. People seemed to avoid this subject whenever I was present as if it was taboo.

Suddenly he went very pale and lowered himself onto the bench, gasping for breath. _Oh great_, I thought. Now he was going to die and I would be blamed. He coughed into a handkerchief he had procured from his pocket and leaned back against the bench. After a while his breath stabilized and he stood up. "Sorry if I gave you a fright," he said standing up carefully.

I just stood there in shock, how could he just get up and act like everything was all right. There was obviously something seriously wrong. What was he doing out in the cold anyway? It was obviously not him helping any.

"Could you show me to the orphanage young man?"

"But you should be going home or to the hospital!" I slapped a hand over my mouth to stop myself from saying anything else that I had no right to say. "Sorry," I said. "I didn't mean to say that. It's just that you don't seem like you should be taking a walk out in the cold right now."

"What are you talking about?" He gave me wink and headed off. "Now are you going to show me the way or am I going to have to find it myself?"

"You're going the wrong way," I said and he turned around, his travelers cloak flipping up to reveal something on his back. "What's that," I asked pointing to the lump under his cloak.

"This," he said pulling something attached to a strap over his head, holding it so I could see, "is a guitar. It makes music and provides entertainment for people. This particular guitar was handed down from my father to me. Would you like to hear it?" Without waiting for my answer he began to strum the instrument and the notes swirled around the air, almost tangible. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever heard. I couldn't help but smile and walk in time with the music. His deep voice carried across the street in sweet harmony with the cords of the guitar. I had almost forgotten all of my troubles until we reached the orphanage.

The man stopped playing as we entered through the gates and the gloom of the orphanage descended upon us, chocking out all happiness. He put a hand on my shoulder and led me into the main hall, steering me to Mrs. Horklump's office. I tried to free myself and get as far away from the office as I possibly could but the man wouldn't let go. He marched us in through the door, looked right into Mrs. Horklump's startled face and said "I would like to adopt this young lad."

What?


End file.
